God looks different during different times of life.
Right now, He looks like a old man. An old man with a face wrinkled from years of experiences – some easy, some difficult. An old man with tales of strength and adventure. An old man with perspective built on memory and the wisdom to share it.
The problem is that He has no one to share it with. He sits in his rocking chair, waiting for His relatives to come over and sit with Him. He watches TV and reads his book. Every few minutes, He looks out the bay window to His left and checks to see if there is anyone walking up the driveway.
Still no one.
He goes back to reading the book that He has read 100 times over. He could probably recite it in His sleep.
He peers out the window, expectantly, hoping that that young girl will show up. He is missing his friend.
An hour goes by, and He’s fallen asleep, but He’s just dozing. Moments later, He slowly opens His tired eyes, and His first thought is of the girl that should be coming to visit. Where is she?
Hopeful, He looks out the large, clear window and he sees the girl. She stretches her neck and extends her arm up in the air. She waves her arm wildly in His direction, hoping that He sees her. Their eyes meet and he just gives a small sideways smirk as He closes His book.
Finally. She came to see me.
She quickly makes her way to the door, knocking quietly, just as a formality. She knows He’s going to answer. Simultaneously, the old man stands up from his chair and shuffles towards the front door.
As she’s waiting and peeking in the window, a goofy smile forms on her face. It’s that kind of grin that you just can’t wipe of your face, no matter how hard you try. Her excitement is uncontainable.
He unlocks the big door by sliding the metal chain out of it’s gate. He turns the doorknob and swings the door open wide. They just smile their goofy smiles at each other. They don’t need to say a word to communicate their excitement of being reunited.
He motions her in and heads back to His chair. She follows Him in and sits down on the couch opposite His chair. They exchange pleasantries and take a minute to catch up. It’s one of those conversations that friends have where the talk is shallow at first, but they know that there’s a lot to come. The expectation is not that “Hey, how are you?” is the most you’ll talk about.
After a few minutes, before getting into the meat of the conversation, He slowly stands up and walks to the kitchen. As He’s making his way across the room, she’s still talking. She can see that He’s listening, even though He’s not facing her. He comes back with a tray of snacks and two steaming cups of coffee. She grabs the coffee, still answering the question and updating Him on her week. It’s warm on her hands, and you can tell that it makes her happy in that moment.
The old man listens even though He’s had 1000 conversations start like this one before. He makes eye contact and shakes His head ever so slightly. She laughs as she talks about the recent happenings in her life.
When she finishes, he says, “It’s good to see you again. Why are you here this time?”
She replies quickly, saying “I enjoy spending time here! I love hearing your stories, too. Tell me one.”
He chuckles as He replies, “You’ve read all of my stories the way that they’ve been written.”
“But they are so much better when you tell them!”
“Okay. You don’t need it, but I’ll tell you one. What do you want to hear?”
“Hmmm… Tell me a story about a time that was most influential and changed your perspective.”
He paused for a moment and began recounting a time from His younger self. He is that kind of person that never really did anything too reckless, but they definitely had fun. There was always an element of love in His actions, even before He had much life experience.
She listened intently, laughing at the awkwardness and the innocence of his story. Occasionally, she would sip her coffee as he spoke, but she never really broke her listening posture. She thought He was incredibly interesting.
He let His lips turn into a smirk before funny moments in his story. He closed his eyes when he mentioned something beautiful, as if He was picturing it in His mind once again. He was truly a great storyteller.
She was always enthralled by His stories. She loved to hear them and be amazed over and over again. She could sit there all day if He would let her.
His story ended and she was so content. It was wonderful to hear His voice so clearly again. It had been quite some time.
She found that when they didn’t talk, she felt like her joy wasn’t completely there. She felt like there was potential for so much more, but she didn’t know when she would make it over to see him again.
In this moment of storytelling and listening, it was different. She felt full and happy and still for the first time in a long while.
